I wish that the mixture that had not grown
And if what was of your love had not been
It is better for the eyes to bleed,
eye, You cried because of a good sight
The best patience is only when there is a group of
Between him I was made between affliction and sorrow
Oh joy for me from the sun that rose
in the scents, Euphorbia cottonseed
How do I feel, Except when a party
By his broadcast I became between grief and sorrow
A dune of sand on his loft is art,
And the sun of a den over that art
What does the eye do when you see it,
Except for the fitnah of the slaying of the fitnah.
she praised, she flew in her emblems,
Even as if the bann’s penis had not softened
I have a little conscience that does not know him
found upon you, and an unencumbered heart
the worries, If I live in a mole
for one, He walked and did not return to his homeland
to you after reaching the hand
Hurt the Tigris in many ships
the oddities of the wind bordered her, and avoid them
lukewarm of water, submissive without a halter
We have come to you with embellished words,
as if they swarmed it from the right hand
As if she was walking the Bahtaria in
Yadi Abi Al-Fadl or in Nael Al-Hassan
We dedicate the loan to the Lord of the loan together
like a nerve-bearer who guides him to Eden
From every flower, like lights, shining,
Stay on the rest of time
Thanking someone who has been busy thanking you for
weeping excessively on the ruins, the addict
I said when I gave you my hope:
What he wants from the vices of eternity, Let it be
I am satisfied with your morals that have been mixed
With honors the merging of the soul with the body
You made me want to make love to you, so
That dew intercedes with understanding, and acumen
Bring me down to glory, palms of you I’ve forgotten
By virtue and custom, make the eye forget the wasan
Whosoever is afflicted by the dwelling of the one he loves, And from
he loves, What do you have other than glory?